


imbalance of chemicals

by alixnqveen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, I love Kuroo so much okok, also Kenma is fun to write, and get a feel for the character, because of uncool parents?, just a story to exercise headcanons, lottsa headcanons, small undiagnosed anxiety?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alixnqveen/pseuds/alixnqveen
Summary: “Okay,” he said regardless. He’d be fine, he had to be fine. It wasn't the end of the world. It would be fine, he’d be fine. It’s okay, it’s okay, don't panic, it’s fucking FINE.He turned to place his notecards on the desk, awkwardly standing up as he said, “Ah, thanks, Mom. I gotta go to the bathroom, be right back.”While he may be smiling as he left the room, he tried to suppress the internal panic that seemed to have manifested at random. As he pulled the bathroom door open a bit too quickly, he closed his eyes shut tight as to hold back the burning tears that pushed behind them.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	imbalance of chemicals

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: panic attacks and anxiety-induced spiraling/thoughts

The minutes leading up to when the Kuroo family departed were agonizing. There Tetsurou sat on the couch, mute, fiddling uncomfortably with the volleyball in his lap as Grampy finished up getting ready. “ _ There’ll be another kid there! _ ” Dad had said, meaning to be comforting, “ _ And he’s around your age too. You’ll be going to your new school with him! _ ”

It wasn’t comforting. A new town, a new house, a new school.

New people.

A new family unit.

Everything was too  _ new _ .

He swallowed the anxiety that was rising in his throat, feeling it ache in his chest. What if he said the wrong thing? What if the kid was too loud, would he be afraid of that? Tetsurou figured if the kid was loud that’d mean he’d be talkative, and if he was talkative, Tetsurou wouldn’t have to input as much into the conversation. It was a solid thought, but he soon realized that if the kid was talkative, he’d find Tetsurou boring and wouldn’t like him, and then he’d go to school thinking “hey, that’s the new neighbor kid who’s as boring as a rock”, and then he’d talk about Tetsurou to his own friends, and then that’d ruin this whole ‘first impressions are the most important’ thing he had going on, and then-

“Tetsu-chan!” He almost jumped off the couch from the voice. He turned to the smiling face of his grandmother, Macchan. She beckoned him over, “Come on now, bud, we’re gonna go meet our neighbors.”

He wasn’t any less afraid than when he had first found out about the impromptu meetup, in fact he felt even more worried. “Okay,” he croaked out, dry and hoarse - or at least that’s what it felt like, but in actuality he sounded quite normal.

Dad, Grampy, Macchan, and Tetsu-chan: together, they stepped outside the new house and took a walk down the new street to the Kozume household. The father of the family, Kozume Ichirou, was supposedly one of Dad’s coworkers. Tetsurou was going to bring his volleyball with him, but Dad told him to leave it, “You can play with it together some other day,” he said. So now, Tetsurou thought as he clung by his father’s side on their way there, he was completely unarmed, no fidget toy slash thing-to-occupy-himself-with-should-things-get-awkward in hand. He was completely alone to face the beast that was this new peer. Had it been only adults, or maybe a much younger kid, he would’ve been more fine, because he was expected to be seen a certain way by them. But a kid his age? That was simply terrifying.

“Hey, bud,” his father’s soothing voice pulled him from his thoughts. Tetsurou only blinked up at him, not saying a word in acknowledgement because he didn’t trust himself to speak evenly. Dad smiled softly, “Are you nervous?”

Tetsurou didn’t know right away how to answer that.  _ Nervous _ felt like both an understatement and a proper description of his emotions. But he couldn’t quite explain that, so instead he just nodded in silence. Dad chuckled, as if he wasn’t aware of the entire dilemma going on in his son’s head, “It’ll be okay. Just be yourself, dude. And I know ‘yourself’ isn’t an ultra-quiet ghost boy.”

He nodded again, though slower. He finally spoke, quiet, like if he was too loud it would cause an implosion of the earth below his feet, “Can’t I just stay with you the whole time?”

“I’m not saying yes or no, so maybe.”

Tetsurou couldn’t tell from his inflection if that was leaning more yes or more no - it was definitely a solid maybe. He didn’t like it one bit. But he only nodded a fourth time, looking ahead again. He was afraid, unarmed, and without secure allies by his side. That wasn’t ideal. The beast seemed to loom over him, much bigger now.

Quicker than he would’ve ever liked, Tetsurou and the family arrived. It wasn’t a special or outstanding house by any means, it looked like any other house on the street; but to Tetsurou, it was a big, horrific dungeon that only housed impending doom. He stepped a little closer to Dad as they approached.

A few raps on the front door, and an agonizingly long few seconds. His heart thumped in his chest, he involuntarily leaned further behind Dad’s legs in preparation for what lay behind the threshold of darkness. The suspense ate him alive.

But instead of a terrible, grotesque monster, there was a friendly face behind the door. It was the wife of Dad’s coworker, and her smile was oddly curled, like a cat, Tetsurou thought. She seemed delighted to see them, “Ah! Welcome! You must be Kuroo-san.”

“Call me Naruhito if you want, I’m not one for strict formalities,” said Dad in an equally as friendly tone.

“Naruhito-san it is then,” she laughed. As she gestured inside for them to enter, she introduced herself, “I’m Kokoro, but many people like to call me Makko. I’ll answer to either!”

Despite the friendly welcome - which wasn’t quite what Tetsurou was expecting, but at the same time he understood he  _ was _ overthinking it a bit - his eyes still curiously flew around the new space. There weren’t guts of warriors past sprayed along the walls; instead, very nice interior decorating with pleasing blue colors and various paintings and mirrors. Tetsurou inspected a little pot on a wall shelf that held a small green plant, wondering how the delicate leaves would feel between his fingers.

Soon, Ichirou had come from the house beyond the entryway, politely waving as the Kuroo group removed their shoes and light jackets. He said in a kind manner much like his wife, “It’s good to see you all! How’re you settling in?”

“Ah, the unpacking process took forever, but I think we got it figured out,” Dad informed casually. “It’s been a whole month and we’re still rearranging things!”

“I know how it is,” said Ichirou, nodding in understanding. He gestured to the rest of the family, “Care to introduce us, or should we go first?”

Dad chuckled, “No, no worries. This is my mom and dad, Aihara and Shin.”

Both of Tetsurou’s grandparents offered their polite greetings. Dad patted him on the shoulder, “And this right here is Tetsurou. Wanna say hi, little dude?”

Tetsurou lifted one of his hands from the grasp he had around Dad’s pant leg, waving slightly. Both Kokoro and Ichirou laughed, waving back and saying their own hello’s.  _ So far so good _ , Tetsurou thought. But he knew it could get so much worse when…

“How old are ya, son?” Ichirou asked.

He knew where this was going. The monster was nearby, lurking. Tetsurou couldn’t see him - but this peer of his was soon to show himself. Tetsurou shrunk behind Dad a little further, saying so quietly he wondered if the Kozumes could even hear him, “I’m nine.”

“He’s going into fourth grade, turning ten in November,” Macchan added on for him.

Kokoro smiled her catlike grin, “He’s just a year older than our Kenma, then.” The beast’s name was Kenma. Tetsurou didn't know whether to feel comforted by gaining more information or uneasy to know what his possible future detriment was called. “Speaking of which,” she continued, glancing around, “where’d he go?”

“Probably in his room,” Ichirou offered.

“I’m right here.”

Tetsurou tried to stretch his head to see who the voice that came from behind the Kozumes belonged to. Beyond their bodies, Tetsurou expected to see a scary, tall boy, or maybe a short, feral-like one, or even a big, horrific monster.

Instead, when Kokoro and Ichirou moved aside to look back at their son, there stood just a boy. He had a hoodie on too, though his was cream-colored as opposed to Kuroo’s black. He wore normal looking shorts, was a normal height, with a normal expression. The only not-normal thing was his black hair that hadn’t been cut, leaving it hanging down to his jaw. Kenma had his hands close to him, making himself look small, and he seemed to be eyeing Tetsurou with just as much wariness. The fear-striking demon that Tetsurou envisioned was nothing more than a skinny boy with long hair, an inability to make any eye-contact whatsoever, and red socks with cats on them.

Ichirou led Kenma over, lightly pushing on his back to bring him closer, “Alrighty then, there ya are. Kenma, this is Kuroo Tetsurou. He’s going into fourth grade and he’s new to the neighborhood. Tetsurou, this is my son Kenma, and he’s just a year younger than you.”

Tetsurou only stared, blinking up and down at the boy before him. He was conflicted; Kenma didn’t  _ look _ scary. But maybe, instead of the outgoing loud boy he was fearing earlier, Kenma was the quietly judgemental type. Salty, with biting quips and rude remarks. Maybe he was a snake, waiting to pounce and sink his teeth into Tetsurou, his brand new prey. The spiralling and anxiety that welled in Tetsurou’s chest made him mute, unable to even say hello in fear of making himself vulnerable.

Kenma stared back, waiting for Tetsurou to make the first move. He bit the bullet, though, finally saying with little to no inflection, “Hi.”

In response, all Tetsurou could do was wave. Kenma blinked, perhaps not expecting that. Or maybe he wasn’t expecting anything at all. Tetsurou couldn’t tell what he was thinking, not one bit. The unknown, he realized, was more terrifying than what he saw with his own two eyes.

“Kenma, why don’t you go show him your room?” Kokoro patted the top of his head. “I’m sure Tetsurou would love to see all the cool games you got.”

“Okay,” Kenma said obediently, still as impassively bland as ever. He made his way to the stairs, pausing by them and looking back when he noticed Tetsurou didn’t follow.

Tetsurou felt a light push, prying off his hands from Dad’s leg. “Go on now, we’ll just be downstairs, okay?” He looked up at his father, eyes pleading. But even now, he knew he had no choice. Unarmed, unallied, and mentally unprepared, he stepped away from Dad and shuffled past the Kozume parents. 

Kenma looked down as Tetsurou approached, and began his ascent slowly, “It’s just up here.”

It was like willingly entering enemy territory, at any turn Tetsurou could be bombarded by something sinister. He clung to the conversation that went on behind him as he walked up the stairs behind Kenma, taking in all he had left of his family as he went deep into the chamber all by his lonesome:

“Ichirou-san, I must ask: is that a Kansai dialect I hear in your voice?”

“Yes, actually, my family’s from Hyogo.”

“Oh that’s lovely!”

“Didn’t one of your brothers move to Hyogo, Ai?”

“I think so, I think it was…”

And thus, he couldn’t hear anything after that as Kenma flicked on the upstairs hallway light. There were only the sounds of two pairs of shuffling feet against the wood and the distant but indistinguishable conversation of the parties below. Tetsurou watched, arms folded and protective, as Kenma pushed open the door to his room. He entered with nothing to say, leaving it open for Tetsurou to follow in silence as well. He was worried if he said anything, he’d break the careful balance and security he had at the moment.

Kenma’s room wasn’t some brightly colored madhouse or a dark cave littered with torture devices; it was just a normal room. It was nearly bleak in how empty it felt, the white walls almost entirely blank, save for a poster or two featuring some video game characters. There was a normal (but unmade) bed by the door, a normal TV at the foot of it, a normal desk in the corner that had a normal pile of clutter. The normalcy of it all became increasingly easier the longer Tetsurou spent here. Normal, yes, but still  _ new _ , and he was still on his guard despite it.

Tetsurou watched carefully as Kenma turned on his TV, the screen flashing white. Kenma opened a cabinet in the TV stand and pulled out what looked like a controller. Tetsurou could only stay nearer to the door, but his eyes did flash with curiosity as Kenma plugged the second controller to his console. He finally straightened up, looking at Tetsurou then looking away, then looking back again, asking flatly, “Have you played a PS2 before?”

“Uh,” Tetsurou opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know how to continue. He resulted to shaking his head a few times, finding it a better way to communicate than actual words.

Kenma nodded slowly, then lifted up both controllers. He flicked one of them up and down like a gesturing motion, saying, “Well… I can show you how to use it. It’s not that hard, but the buttons can sometimes not work since my dad broke it.”

With a slight hesitation, Tetsurou slid his way closer to Kenma, taking the controller with care. His hands almost shook, but gripping both hands around the cool device seemed to make it better. Kenma continued, saying a bit more awkwardly, “Uh… do you, well, actually talk?”

He blinked. “Um,” Tetsurou tried not to stutter, “yes.” His heart thumped in his chest, and he looked down at his hands again instead of Kenma’s gaze.

“Okay,” Kenma’s thumb tapped his own controller a few times. “So, uh, the triangle, square, circle, and X buttons are used for most everything. There’s the little sticks too, for the game we’re playing you’ll only really need the right one to move. And then there’s the left and right triggers, you use your pointer fingers for those.”

Kenma bluntly explained the other buttons and what they do in the game, and it all kind of flew around Tetsurou’s head as he tried to remember it all. “It’s just Metal Gear Solid, it’s pretty easy to get a hang of,” he’d said, but Tetsurou was simply trying to focus on how to hold the controller the right way. He mostly knew what was happening, so he could figure out himself. The last thing he wanted to do now was ask a question and sound stupid.

It wasn’t easy at first, playing with Kenma as he sat on the bed and Tetsurou tucked his legs under him on the floor. Kenma had asked if he wanted to sit up there as well, but he declined with the shake of his head and a soft murmur. Kenma seemed to be fine with it, in fact he didn’t seem to care either way. That was something so odd about him; he was entirely impassive about most everything that happened. Tetsurou could sit there in silence and Kenma wouldn’t seem to care - that’s exactly what they did, too. Just the two of them, sitting in his normal room, playing a normal game, the only sound being the clacking of the controller buttons and the low rumblings from the TV.

Though it didn’t feel right - Tetsurou couldn’t help but hear the nagging voice in the back of his head that Kenma didn’t like him and the silence needed to be filled by something - it also didn’t feel as fear-striking and dangerous as Tetsurou was imagining. It was a comfortable silence, and Tetsurou wasn’t totally freaked about what Kenma was thinking of him since he probably didn’t really care. He wondered if there was  _ anything  _ Kenma cared about.

The hour and a half seemed to fly by. Tetsurou’s attention had gradually moved from Kenma to the game they were playing, and he only realized it when Kokoro called from downstairs, “Boys! Tetsurou’s gotta leave, they’re heading home now!”

“Guess that’s it, then,” Kenma muttered, pausing the game. Tetsurou nodded and hummed an “mhm” in response. Kenma looked at him, his eyes seeming to glance upwards before falling to the side again. “I had fun,” he said, almost like he was embarrassed to say.

“You did?” Tetsurou spoke before he could stop himself. Kenma didn’t look like he had fun- on that note, did he have any emotions at all? And what was fun about sitting around playing games like he normally would, just with an awkward, quiet kid sitting on the floor playing with him?

Kenma shrugged, his voice going lower, “So you do talk.” He didn’t give Tetsurou a chance to respond since he followed it up with a nod, “Yeah, I guess. Sometimes it’s fun to play with other people, I dunno.”

Tetsurou blinked, then tilted his head to the side. “Uhhh… thanks,” he said slowly, his eyes darting away momentarily.

“For… what?” Kenma’s face screwed up in confusion, the first noticeable expression change Tetsurou saw from him the whole time.

He suddenly realized he didn’t have a reason he could put into words. He couldn’t quite say ‘ _ Thanks for not being an overly judgemental guy that makes me feel super insecure _ ’ or ‘ _ Thanks for not caring about anything at all so I could work out my internal meltdown by myself _ ’ or any other variation he had in his head. So he simply shook his head, saying quietly, “I dunno. Sorry.”

Kokoro had called up again, giving them both a reason to end the small conversation there and head out of the room. Tetsurou began wondering if he had successfully defeated the beast he so terribly feared before the visit, or if it would be considered that the beast wasn’t exactly as he pictured it so he was outsmarted and fooled. As he stepped off the last step and made his way back to the front door to get his shoes, he decided it was simply a draw. It wasn’t a total win but he didn’t crash and burn, so he was fine settling for just ‘okay’. He’d definitely need to restock inventory and nurse some minor wounds, though, since he was beginning to have a headache from stressing himself out as well as staring at the TV that long.

“Definitely come over again if you’d like,” Kokoro mused as the adults said their farewells. “Our home is your home, and I’d love to meet with you for herb gardening, Shin-san.”

Grampy smiled, “You’d have to be patient on my old bones, though.”

Ichirou looked over to his son, who was standing a bit away whilst picking at his fingernails, “Kenma, whaddya say to Tetsurou visiting more often? Wanna keep playing games with him sometimes?”

Tetsurou’s heart seemed to stop beating as he held his breath for Kenma’s answer. Kenma looked up at his father, then over to Tetsurou with his signature apathy standing strong. His emotions were as always locked away behind his indifference. He glanced down again, saying, “Sure, if he wants to.”

Tetsurou smiled a bit, taking in a breath. Kenma didn’t hate him and he definitely wasn’t the type to talk bad about him, that was at the very least what Tetsurou knew. That was enough for him. The monster may be back in the future, but it had retreated for now, leaving Tetsurou with enough time to better prepare himself for the next encounter.

On their walk back home, Macchan asked with a laugh, “Did you make a new friend, Tetsu-chan?”

“No, Kenma’s just a normal friend,” Tetsurou replied casually, swinging his arms a bit as he walked.

Dad looked at him, an eyebrow raised, “What’s that mean?”

“He’s just a normal kid,” he repeated like it was obvious, confused as to why they didn’t know the difference. “He’s not new or different, just a kid.”

His father’s confusion soon turned to amusement as he nodded along, lifting a hand to his chin in thought, “Well, I guess you’re right about that. So you had fun?”

Tetsurou thought for a second, then decided to shrug like Kenma had. “I guess,” he said, trying to keep his expression blank. It was hard though, he couldn’t help his eyebrows twitching up or his mouth wanting to pull into a smile from the little joke he was making all for himself. How did Kenma stay so even and uncaring all the time? He truly wanted to know what went on in Kenma’s head. Did he even particularly enjoy anything? “Maybe I can show him my volleyball next time,” he wondered aloud.

Tetsurou looked to see a soft smile gracing his father’s lips, there was something meaningful about the way he studied him. Before Tetsurou could say anything about it, Dad said as he looked away, “Maybe you should, he might like it.”

\-----

“...and so, when the amount of space decreases, the pressure increases, and vice versa. That is precisely what… Hey Kenma, do think saying ‘precisely’ sounds stupid?”

Kenma didn't look away from his TV as he said flatly, “No, you just sound like a guy trying to sound smarter than necessary.”

Tetsurou sighed, tossing his stack of notecards on Kenma’s bed. He rubbed his face, groaning, “God, I do  _ not _ want to give this presentation.”

One of Kenma’s eyebrows lifted slightly but he still looked straight ahead. He asked, “What are you so worried about? You sounded fine to me.”

He peeked through his fingers at Kenma, almost groaning again when he noticed his heartbeat picking up as he thought about this presentation. Dropping his hands, Tetsurou shuffled his way to Kenma's desk chair, sitting backwards in it and stuffing his face in the back of it. His voice was muffled as he said, “It’s easy to give it to one person. But I hate doing it in front of a class, y’know.”

“You never have any problem having a simple conversation with basically anyone in that class, even your teacher likes you, right?” Kenma reasoned, seeming to have deciphered what Tetsurou said. “How’s this different?”

Tetsurou moved his chin to rest on the top of the chair, frowning. He closed his eyes, sighing. “Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbled through his pout. But it wasn't quite like that. There’s a difference between having a fun conversation with one or two classmates and giving a formal oral presentation for a grade, one where everyone has to be quiet and listen to him, one where he has to know what he needs to say and what he’s talking about and he can't make any jokes, one where he’s standing all by himself in the front of the classroom as he fumbles with his notecards and stutters over his words and-

“You’ll do fine, Kuroo,” Kenma said with a shrug. “You're the outgoing one between us, right? You’re everyone’s best friend, so stop being dramatic.”

Tetsurou huffed a laugh, planting his face back in the chair. “What do you mean, ‘dramatic’ is my best quality,” he joked, though he didn't really feel amused.

There was a moment of silence as neither spoke, though there was the sounds of the TV and Kenma clicking the buttons on his controller. Tetsurou kind of hugged the chair, considering just falling asleep right here instead of practicing his speech for the millionth time. He almost did too, until there was a light knock on the door, “Boys, can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou called, even if it wasn't his house. It basically was, at this point. The Kozume household, along with his own down the street, had gradually become more normal.

Kokoro entered gracefully, asking, “What are you guys up to?”

Tetsurou lifted his finger to point at Kenma while keeping his head in the chair, “Kenma’s playing… something. I’m trying to practice my speech for school tomorrow and failing.”

“You’re not failing, you’re just having a dramatic meltdown.”

“Kenmaaa, don't be mean to me.”

“It’s the truth.”

He lifted his chin up again, pursing his lips. He looked up to Kokoro, “Mom, tell Kenma to stop being mean to me.”

“Kenma, stop being mean,” she dutifully said, putting her hands on her hips.

Kenma only groaned, rolling his eyes, and both Tetsurou and Kokoro laughed. Kokoro then glanced over and picked up the notecards that were deposited on the bed. She looked through them, asking, “Oh, is this Boyle’s Law?”

“Yup,” Tetsurou droned. 

“How long do you have to talk?”

Tetsurou closed his eyes as he rolled his head to the side a bit, “Uhhh, it’s a two minute speech.” He picked up his heart still thumping, his muscles tensing uncomfortably, his head beginning to spin. He was practiced at hiding it though.

Kokoro smiled at him, “Oh that's not too bad! Do you wanna perform in front of me? I won't be mean.”

“See, that's the problem,” Tetsurou lifted his finger up as he spoke. “It’s not that I don't know the information or the speech or whatever. I could perform it in front of you guys just fine. It’s different than performing in front of you two compared to twenty middle school second years, y’know?”

He saw Kenma recoil a bit out of the corner of his eye. He said, quietly and grossed out, “It’s a bad time either way for me. You can do it though.”

“Aw, do you actually have faith in me?”

“No, you’re just so annoying that you’re able to go do that.”

Kokoro hummed a bit in warning, “Okay, that wasn't necessary, Kenma.”

“Sorry.”

She continued, shuffling the notecards back in order, “Well, let’s be realistic about this then. You gotta give the speech regardless, right?”

Tetsurou looked back up at her, saying after a slight delay, “Right.”

“And you know the speech and what you’re talking about like the back of your hand, right?”

“More or less, right.”

Kokoro looked at Tetsurou with a confident grin, handing the notecards back to him. He straightened up to take them, feeling his hand shaking just a bit. He mentally cursed, but didn't have time to dwell on it as Kokoro continued, “I’m not saying the worry will go away, and it may still be there when you give the speech. But you gotta be patient with yourself. If a kid went up there and totally bombed it, would you think they're awful and stupid?”

He took a few seconds to answer, “Well… no.”

“So then no one will think of  _ you _ like that.” Kokoro stepped closer to pat down Tetsurou’s bed head, laughing a bit, “I know you’ll do great, honey, you're smart and you're good with talking. Just take your time, okay?”

She made it sound so easy. Tetsurou knew it was that easy, and yet he couldn't stop the fear gripping his heart, the headache that pounded his brain, the ringing in his ears as he thought about the dozens of eyes staring at him as he spoke about something he’s supposed to know. They expect him to do it right, to know what he’s talking about, and if he underperformed…

“Okay,” he said regardless. He’d be fine, he had to be fine. It wasn't the end of the world. It would be fine, he’d be  _ fine _ . It’s okay, it’s okay, don't panic, it’s fucking FINE.

He turned to place his notecards on the desk, awkwardly standing up as he said, “Ah, thanks, Mom. I gotta go to the bathroom, be right back.”

While he may be smiling as he left the room, he tried to suppress the internal panic that seemed to have manifested at random. As he pulled the bathroom door open a bit too quickly, he closed his eyes shut tight as to hold back the burning tears that pushed behind them.

\-----

As Tetsurou pulled his shirt on in silence, he stared at the study sheet he propped up in his locker, going over it for the twelfth time since he woke up. He was counting.

He heard Yaku scoff behind him, “Kuroo, are you really freaked about this test?”

Tetsurou laughed, but he was self-conscious about how it didn't sound quite right. “Not at all,” he blatantly lied, he wondered if Yaku could catch it, “I just… maybe forgot to study last night.”

Forgot wasn't right either. He just didn't do it. Every time he tried to take up his study materials, he wouldn't be able to read or comprehend anything. He considered calling Kenma to help him, but he didn't want to bother him with it. Kenma wouldn't want to do it anyway, and he didn't want to push him into anything. He had ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he was just making excuses to keep procrastinating and slipped his papers away for the night.

Yaku looked at him, wide eyed, “You  _ forgot _ ? For the biology  _ final _ ?”

He shot a glare at him, but he had to look down at his shirt again as he kept fumbling the buttons. Tetsurou was prepared for this, since he and Yaku were taking the same test and he probably studied. He sighed in frustration as he said, “I know most of it, okay? I only realized now that maybe I could've taken time to go over it again yesterday.”

“Wow, who knew Old, Wise Elder Kuroo can make mistakes,” Yaku grinned, apparently not finding the nervousness that seemed to zing through Tetsurou’s every move. He slung his tie around his neck as he continued to poke, “Still think you’ll get the better score between us, huh?”

Tetsurou only looked away, having only just finished with the buttons. Kai had spoken before he had the chance, “I heard that biology class was hard.”

“Eh. It was mostly just a lot of work…”

Tetsurou tuned out what they were saying to look back at his notes. He read over the same formulas again and again to try and burn them into his brain. But all the words were simply seen and not remembered. They didn't make any sense, it was useless trying to understand them. Despite his merciless need to soak in this information, all he could focus on was the pure dread that had settled in his gut and the severe dizziness of his mind. He looked up, trying to take in a deep breath, but it only ended up shallow and uneven.

“Kuroo?” Tetsurou snapped his head to the side, jumping at the voice. Yaku looked tentative to ask, “Are you really okay?”

No. “Sure,” he shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “Just a healthy amount of stress and regret. It’ll be fine, I’ll get through it.”

Yaku didn't believe him. But he nodded anyway, “Well all right then.”

“Adrenaline’s a bitch, huh?” he tried to sound casual, but it came out more downtrodden. He forced another laugh, putting on his tie, “And all fear comes from…”

Yaku still looked concerned, but he said as he grabbed his bag, “The amygdala, that's easy.”

“Bingo.” Talking seemed to relieve some of the stress, it took his mind off the panic and all the information he should know that buzzed around his head like bees. “And don't forget the hippocampus.”

He pretended not to notice the meaningful look Yaku and Kai shared. “Right,” Yaku nodded.

As Tetsurou finished getting dressed, he noticed his forehead was only slightly damp. It was too long after morning practice for it to be from that, but he pretended it was anyway. It was fine, it would be fine. He was fine.

But when the bell rang, signaling for everyone to head to their classes for the day, the strike of fear that felt like a punch to the gut definitely wasn't fine.

He walked with Yaku and Kai in silence as they talked about… something. Tetsurou wasn’t listening. He could barely think about anything at all, his mind felt blank and numb. His eyes searched around the hallways, at all the people, at his friends beside him- were the walls a bit closer than normal or was that just him? He locked onto the sign above the bathrooms, already swaying towards it.

He must’ve said something to the guys that he’d “be right back”, but it didn't feel like he said it. As he half-stumbled into the bathroom, his chest was so tight he couldn't get any air in. Tetsurou almost fell into one of the stalls, gasping, and feeling sick to his stomach, and on the verge of tears.

He was going crazy, he was going  _ fucking _ crazy. He was losing his mind. If he failed this test, it wasn't a big deal but it  _ was _ . He was the smart kid, he was the example for Kenma, he was the “rival” of Yaku. He had to do well, he couldn't not do well.

But he was going to fail. He would be bent over his test not being able to read anything because that's what always happened when he was like this. His fingers twitched violently as he dug his wrists into his eye sockets, trying and miserably failing to stop the surge of panic.

He was spiraling, he knew he was. This wasn't the first time, but it had been a long time since the last attack. 

Here he was, Kuroo Tetsurou. Most people knew him, they knew him as the friendly, witty guy who had garnered the name “Old Man Kuroo” because of his father-like qualities. What would happen when he showed up to class, flushed and unresponsive? Would they talk about him? Would it weigh on his reputation for his next two years of high school? The other guys, Yaku and Kai, they surely wouldn't want to hang out with the guy who has a mental breakdown over a biology test, would they? And Kenma, would Kenma even want to be the friend of that one crazy sensitive kid when he came to Nekoma next year?

He slid down the side of the stall, curling into the tightest ball he could. He only realized now that he was crying, the tears were hot on his cheeks.

He couldn’t breathe. In and out and in and out but  _ nothing was working _ . He swore there were monsters creeping around him out of the corners of his eyes.

The dizziness was numbing, he couldn’t focus on anything other than how pathetic he must’ve looked. How pathetic he was. How he didn’t know what to do or where to go or if he would be okay to take his test or if he’d pass out and be found in an hour or two or if-

Nothing felt real. He was watching himself outside his body as he gasped for air, tears running down his face, covering his ears and curling his legs in tight. 

He closed his eyes, finally catching a pattern to his breathing. He focused on the repetitiveness of his breathing, imagining the oxygen moving in and the carbon dioxide flooding out. He thought about air circulation, how the oxygen transfers to his lungs, then to his bloodstream, only to be carried on the blood cells throughout his entire body. He was real, and he was breathing. He imagined the blood flow from his feet, through his legs, to his chest and his arms, through his heart as it beat erratically, and finally, to his brain. His head was pounding but it wasn’t spinning anymore.

He opened his eyes again, squinting against the light. In and out, in and out, in and out. In came the oxygen, allowing his muscles to breathe and his brain to clear, out went the carbon, dispelling the waste of his respiration and letting out the pent up swirl of emotions.

In and out, in and out, in and out. Don’t think about anything else. In and out, in and out, in and out.

For a moment, Tetsurou finally felt in control again. Like driving a car, he may not be pushing the brakes but at least he had his hands on the wheel again. He moved to wipe his eyes, feeling as bleary and dull as they probably ooked. He slowly slid his arms from over his head to around his legs, staring straight ahead as the pure fear subsided and instead came a hollow emptiness. He could see himself in the reflection of the stall wall, albeit blurry. The up and coming volleyball middle blocker, sitting curled around himself on the floor, with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. It was too pathetic even for him.

He knew why he was feeling the way he was - he’d done some research on the brain in his curiosity, studying where emotions come from and getting an understanding on where thoughts take place. This was simply a chemical imbalance. Crying was proven to generate toxins and chemicals that are meant to soothe the body. Releasing stress can generate dopamine. Panic attacks were nothing but the amygdala going into overdrive. He was fine. He was going to be fine. That's just how his brain was wired.

He put his head in his hands, letting out a sigh. He still felt like shit regardless. This was all the work of the chemicals in his brain, and yet he still didn't know  _ why _ . Logically speaking, it most likely rooted from his early years of life, living in an unstable household between his mother and father until finally she went completely absent. That's why he still felt nervous talking to people every now and then, how presentations never failed to make his heart beat a little faster, how the possibility of failure threw him into disaster. But it wasn't the full story either. He didn't know why, really  _ why _ he felt the way he did.

Emotions and thought patterns usually don't have reasons or a clear answer, but Tetsurou searched for them regardless because if he didn't know why, then what was the point of feeling them at all?

Tetsurou was pulled from his wallowing as the door to the bathroom opened. He froze, his body going still as whoever it was took a few slow steps inside. There was a slightly concerned voice Tetsurou soon recognized, “Kuroo? You still here?”

He deflated, leaning his head back on the stall. Of course it would come to this. “Hey, Yakkun.”

“Good Lord, dude, are you dropping some royal shit or something?”

“Not quite,” he humorlessly chuckled.

He felt pressure on the stall he laid against, probably Yaku propping himself up against it. He said casually, though not without a hint of quiet understanding, “Baya-sensei’s pissed. You think you… can get out soon?”

“I don't know,” Tetsurou said quietly, his voice a bit scratchy. “Can you pass my test for me?”

“Not on your life.”

He laughed again, but it was a bit more genuine. There was a silence between them, and Tetsurou couldn’t help but look at his own reflection, vain as it sounded. This was him. This was, though sometimes unfortunately, him. The brain was a big clump of fat and neurons, that's all it was. It just so happened that his had malfunctions every now and then. As incredibly complex the human brain was, it was only bound to happen that a few wires were crossed the wrong way or, in his case, the amygdala was just a bit too big.

“You’ll be okay, right?” Yaku finally said, low but comforting. “Do I need to call a nurse or something?”

Tetsurou finally let his head dip under the weight of his thoughts, resting upon his knees. He took in a deep, clear,  _ actual _ breath, then said, “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Just… give me a few more minutes?”

“Okay, yeah. Take your time.”

“...”

“But not too long, we still gotta get to class.”

“Yeah, I got the message, you prick.”

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!!! I actually started writing this for a Kuroo zine application, and I kinda got away with myself. For the longest time, since I read the manga and what not, I've had a few headcanons about Kuroo and his shyness in his young life (along with why he doesn't live with his mother). What if, I thought, he still felt this anxiousness. Perhaps in the form of a undiagnosed anxiety disorder that wasn't as strong as it typically is? He's obviously a very friendly and outgoing person, but I wanted to play around with the idea that there were some moments where he just *couldn't*. I projected a bit of myself and my experiences with being an Ex-Gifted Kid and having to deal with similar things, though not on the scale or severity.
> 
> I've never had a panic attack and I don't know what it's like to have anxiety, so I really hope I did you all justice. If you feel the need to, a comment on my portrayal of the panic attack or the description of his anxiety would be VERY APPRECIATED.
> 
> ANYWAY THANK YOU SO MUCH, HAVE A GOOD DAY, I LOVE YOU, TAKE YOUR MEDS AND DRINK SOME WATER, AND I PROMISE I LOVE KUROO/OTHER CHARACTERS I WRITE ABOUT, I JUST LIKE TO MAKE MYSELF SUFFER. :D


End file.
